


Never leave again!

by MarmeLady_Orange



Series: THE INTERVENTION [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Human, Fanfiction in the fanfiction, M/M, People like to interrupt the storyteller, Series Spoilers, Swearing, Up to date with Season 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarmeLady_Orange/pseuds/MarmeLady_Orange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God wants Dean and Castiel to finally get together. He has enlisted some of their friends (and non-friends) to find a way to make that happen.</p><p>Jody Mills wanted a story à la Speed but couldn’t really find a way to make it happen (plus, trying to tamper with Baby would be suicidal). Instead, she goes with something she knows something about. Castiel is the sheriff of Sioux Falls, Dakota. Dean is the town drunk. Can the best friends relationship they once had be salvaged?</p><p>*****</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never leave again!

**Author's Note:**

> Might make more sense to read part 1 first, if you haven't already... The style might be confusing otherwise.
> 
> *
> 
> She doesn't advertise it, but I think Jody's a big sap… romance novels and corny movies. If she had the talent, the writing would have been much more flowery and poetic. She kind of tried and, even though she finds the others better, she's pretty proud of herself.
> 
> **

 

Castiel Mills was the sheriff…

 

_\----------------------------------------_

_SAM: Castiel Mills?_

_JODY: Well, Jimmy doesn’t like us to use his name. I’ll use mine!_

_SAM: Oh… good idea._

_\----------------------------------------_

 

Castiel Mills is the sheriff of Sioux Falls, Dakota. He has been for about five years now and he loves it. Everyday he’ll go to work with a smile on his face and a song in his heart, the golden star on his uniform making his step lighter somehow.

As far as he knows, he is well liked by the town’s people, barely ever having to interfere on anything. It’s a quiet little town and that’s how he wished it’d stay. But of course, that’s not possible. There’s this thorn in his side and there isn’t much he can do about it.

The thorn’s name is Dean Winchester. And if at least he was a bad guy, but it’s not even the case. If you met the Winchester on a good day, you could just probably just fall in love with the guy. Not only does he have the looks, as in delicate features, sandy brown hair and the most luminous green eyes you’d ever seen, but he also has the witts.

Except that life has left him battered and bruised. So much so that he tries to drink his problems away when they become too difficult to handle. Everybody knows this, but everybody loves the guy. So they let him drink himself silly and they call Castiel to pick him up before he ever tries to drive home.

Every week, it’s the same thing so now Castiel just expects it. He waits for the call before even thinking about clocking out. Not that he ever really does, mind you. Not since he’s the only one that will be getting this call anyway. No deputy would ever be able to steer Dean clear from his car without threats or handcuffs.

No… Dean will only follow Castiel willingly. Not happily, but willingly. Maybe because at some point in their life, they had been best friends. Stuff happened, life stuff, and they drifted apart but they never were on bad terms.

So it’s Friday night again and Murray just calls Castiel to explain how Dean has ordered his _last drink_ and is now talking about heading home. He thanks the barkeep and grabs his stuff to leave the office. He’s glad Dean was at Murray’s and not at Sandy’s, the local strip joint. It’s much closer so Castiel still has a chance of having a early(ish) night.

He gets to the bar just in time to spot Dean doing his best to walk a straight line towards his beloved car. Like every time this happens. And like every time this happens, Castiel stops his own car next to Dean for him to get in. Like every time, the drunk man gets in the back seat, pestering, arguing he could very well _"drive his own damn car"_ and doesn’t need _“no fuckin’ babysitter”_. And like every time, he falls asleep before they even get out of the parking lot.

“Dean, wake up, you’re here!” Castiel says loudly to Dean when they get to his home.

“Lea’ me ‘lone!” he just babbles before falling asleep again.

“Oh for heaven’s sake…”

Castiel, who had gotten out to open Dean’s door, tries again to wake the man by shaking him, unsuccessfully. Once more, he’ll have to bring him inside and make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit.

It takes a good five minutes just to get in the house. Castiel has to drop his drunken load on the bench in the foyer to flick some lights on. He takes his boots off and hangs his coat on one of the empty hooks, knowing he’d be there for a little while. Then he crouches to take off Dean’s own boots.

“Sex ‘night…?” he hears Dean mumble, clearly unaware of his surroundings.

“Not tonight hot shot. Bed yes, sex no.” Castiel laughs.

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re very drunk. Come on. Need the bathroom?”

“Get off! I can… huh!” Dean tries to say before falling on all fours. “Ok… Need pee…”

Castiel helps the well built man reach the bathroom. He is thankful that the home is on a single level because handling stairs in this condition? Not even remotely fun. He lets the man do his business privately, which seems to go without a hitch, then escorts him to his bedroom so he makes it in one piece.

Dean collapses on his bed face down and groans. He starts squirming around, apparently trying to get rid of his clothes. Castiel decides he’d better assist him as he’s afraid he’ll strangle himself with his shirt. Or maybe even his pants. He’s so drunk he probably could achieve that.

“Not drunk that much y’know…”

“Of course, Dean.”

“I swear!”

“I believe you. Now put your arms up.”

“No sex…”

Castiel doesn’t answer. He knows Dean is a huge flirt and it’s even worse when he’s drunk. He’s so far gone it’s probably not registering anymore that it’s Castiel who’s there, or that’s a guy in the room. He could be a malamute for all Dean would care, really.

When Dean is down to his boxers, Castiel covers him with the blanket that’s at the foot of the bed and turns to get out of the room. Before he can even reach the door, he hears Dean mumble something. Of course, he could act as if he hadn’t heard anything but somehow, he can’t. They might not be buddies anymore, but he still has a soft spot for the man.

“What did you say?” he asks, half hoping Dean has fallen back asleep.

“You my bes’ frien’…”

Castiel’s heart stops at that statement. Of course, Dean is drunk, maybe he’s mistaking him for someone else. But even knowing that, it hurts. Mainly because it was true at some point in time.

“Ok Dean… Sleep tight!” he just answers back, keeping his tone even.

“Cas… stay!”

The sheriff can’t argue the fact that Dean seems to know who’s there with him. He called him Cas. Just like he use to do. Not Castiel, or Sheriff Mills, like he does now. Cas…

“Why?”

“Need you… ‘rybody else s’gone.” he sobs. A drunken sob, but a sob nonetheless.

“Christ!” Castiel mutters, coming back in the room to sit in the armchair next to the window. “Just sleep Dean, I’ll stay.”

 

_\----------------------------------------_

_SAM: Jody?_

_JODY: Yeah?_

_SAM: Ok… Don’t take this the wrong way but… did you write this about Bobby?_

_JODY: What? No!_

_SAM: Sure? ‘Cause, according to you, he was the town’s drunk. In your story, Dean is the town drunk. You’re the sheriff, Cas is the sheriff in your story…_

_JODY: Circumstantial evidence…_

_SAM: You know it’s ok if it was, right?_

_JODY: Well it’s not, ok?_

_CROWLEY: That’s a shame… Bobby was a great kisser!_

_CHARLIE / ELLEN / JO / JODY: What?_

_SAM: Bobby made a deal with Crowley… demon deals are sealed with a kiss._

_CROWLEY: He bloody used tongue too the little minx._

_CHARLIE: What? First Jody, now Bobby? What are you, hell’s little escort?_

_CROWLEY: Interested are we, Love?_

_CHARLIE: I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon._

_CROWLEY: That can be arranged…_

_CHARLIE: Mister God? Can he do that?_

_CHUCK: Crowley, would you just leave the girl alone? I’ll zap you right on Abaddon’s lap if you don’t behave!_

_\----------------------------------------_

 

When Castiel wakes up about five hours later, he’s alone in the room. He can hear the shower running and smell fresh coffee brewing. He slowly gets out of the chair, all his joints loudly popping back into place. He lets out an amused huff at the thought of Dean’s neighbours seeing his police car in the driveway.

That should start up some juicy gossip. Not that he cares for himself because the whole town already knows about his sexual history. It’d be more about Dean and how the gay sheriff seems to have spent the night at his place. Hopefully Dean wouldn’t be ridiculed over this, even if Castiel’s more than willing to tell anyone who’d like to know that nothing has happened. And that it never would.

Castiel is putting on his boots when Dean comes to him in the foyer.

“Where you goin’?”

“Home, of course. Need to wash and change before going to work.” Castiel says, smiling.

“At least stay for breakfast. I’ll make waffles. Well… they’re Eggo’s, but I got syrup. The real stuff too!”

“Thanks Dean, but I…”

“Come on, man… you keep making sure I don’t go and get killed, let me repay you with cheap breakfast.”

“Fine!”

He takes off his boots again and follows Dean to the sunny kitchen. He accepts a cup of coffee, adds a bit sugar and milk and sits at the little table. Dean soon puts a plate with two toasted waffles in front of him and pushes the butter and syrup on the table.

“Eat up. I’ll join you as soon as mine pop out.”

So Castiel does, slathering butter on the toasted pastries and dousing them in syrup. It isn’t the best thing he’s ever had, but it’s good enough and nicely fills his stomach.

“So, what was it this time?” he dares to ask Dean who only shrugs his broad shoulders.

“Nothing… just who I am I guess…”

“Didn’t you ever think…”

“I did… and drop it!” Dean growls, knowing very well where the conversation’s going.

It isn’t the first time Castiel tries to talk to Dean about his drinking problem. He tries often actually. And every time, the result is pretty much the same. The saddest part being that Dean knows very well he has a problem but he doesn’t even seem to care.

“I just wish you’d seek help, Dean!” he says, hoping the man would finally listen.

“Why? Who the fuck cares?

“I do!”

“You, Sheriff Mills, care about Dean Winchester, the filthy town drunk. Isn’t that nice!”

“Dean, you weren’t always the town drunk. And we were friends once.”

“Yeah, and then you left.”

“For college, Dean… Come on!”

“Yeah… that’s still counts as leaving. Just like Mom, like Dad, like Sammy, like…”

“Your parents died, that was traumatic and it fucking sucks, I get it. But it’s not like they did it on purpose. When I left, it was college, I didn’t leave YOU. Sam’s the same, he went for school, he didn’t leave YOU! As for your fiancée, well she’s probably the one that left you because of you, your drinking, sadly enough.”

“Ha!”

“What?”

“You just don’t know anything, man!”

“Of course I don’t… I come back here after college and it’s like you don’t even know me anymore, and all you do is drink yourself blind every fucking week-end.”

“Fuck man! You LEFT, never called or wrote or visited and I’m the villain in the story?”

“There’s no villain, Dean… I just wish you’d take better care of yourself.”

Dean sighs loudly and shakes his head, clenching his hand on his knife until his knuckles are so white they look like they could pop.

“You know Sam’s getting married? He’s not coming back here ever. He’d rather stay in stupid Boston than come back to his drunk of a brother.”

“I would have thought that was good news. Him getting married, having a life of his own.”

“Yeah… well he said that if I can’t handle my drinkin’, I shouldn’t even bother to show up to the wedding.”

 

_\----------------------------------------_

_SAM: I’d never…_

_JODY: It’s a story Sam, I swear… I don’t see him this way. Let’s just say I’ve read a lot of cheesy romance novels, ok? And I kinda like to watch Hallmark movies too…_

_SAM: Yeah, ok… sorry… I’ll stop interrupting!_

_MARY: But he really does have a drinking problem, doesn’t he?_

_SAM: Well, he does, or he did… he seems better now since purgatory._

_MARY: Hum…_

_\----------------------------------------_

 

“Dean, maybe you should listen to your brother, you know?”

“So I should change my whole life just for his stupid wedding?”

“Is your life so great?”

“Well… it isn’t bad!”

“Come on! You told me you don’t have anybody, and you spend most of your weekends dead drunk.”

“Maybe someday I’ll be lucky enough to just not wake up.”

“You don’t mean that!”

“Hell, I don’t know anymore.”

“Let me ask you something Dean. If I hadn’t left for college, would we still be friends?”

“I don’t see why not…”

“And is there a reason why we shouldn’t be now?”

“You left!”

“Dean… that shouldn’t be enough to kill a friendship! Real friends, like I thought we were, should be able to just start back to where they were.”

The man doesn’t respond, instead takes their now empty plates and brings them to the sink. He comes back with the coffee pot and adds more in each mug before putting it back on the stove.

“Cas, Lisa didn’t leave me…”

 

_\----------------------------------------_

_SAM: You know Lisa?_

_JODY: I know of her. Bobby mentioned her once._

_\----------------------------------------_

 

“No?”

“It was a common decision but not because of my drinking. We split because I couldn’t love her like she deserved to be. I don’t think I can ever love again, you know?”

“Again? Who is it that you lost then if not Lisa?”

“You’re such a dumbass…”

Castiel looks at the man who was once his friend. He sees something in his eyes that he hasn’t seen for a very long time. Some sort of softness, as if he has regressed back to their high school days, when they’d be cruising the town in Dean’s Impala, shooting the shit. Before Dean’s parents would die tragically, preventing him to go to college to instead take care of his little brother. Before Castiel would leave to live his own life. Before Dean would find solace in a bottle of Jack.

Almost desperately, Dean grabs Castiel’s face and brings it closer to his. He just looks at him, green eyes luminous against his deep blue ones. Their mouths are so close they are basically breathing each other’s air. But neither of them move, waiting to see what the other will do. Finally, Dean speaks again.

“Who do you think I could have lost that made me never love again, hum?”

“Your parents?” Castiel breathes. “Your brother?” he murmurs again.

“Nope, on both accounts.” Dean replies, breathless, before moving his mouth to Castiel’s cheek and kissing it.

“Can’t be me… you’re not even gay!”

“I was in love with you, Cas… I didn’t care what it made me.”

“You never said anything.”

“I was a kid, and scared! Then you left and you came back, all gay and shit.”

“And you were with Lisa!”

“Yup…”

Dean is still in Castiel’s very personal space. He moves his mouth to his other cheek and kisses it.

“Dean, it doesn’t change the fact that you have a drinking problem. You need to deal with this.”

“I know…” Dean replies, bringing his lips to Castiel’s forehead.

“Please…” Castiel says, closing his eyes.

“I know…” he repeats, now hugging him, his face in Castiel’s neck.

“I’ll help you if you want me to. But I won’t force you, this is your war, not mine.”

Dean doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to because whatever he says won’t mean shit if he doesn’t back it up with real actions. He doesn’t know what will happen with Castiel, or even with himself. All he knows is that he’s pretty sure he got his friend back. Well, it seems he got a bit more than a friend, which is more than he could have expected at this point in his life. That could be a nice start to something new.

He also has a wedding to go to and if he’s lucky enough, he’ll be able to assist and he’ll have a date too.

 

_\----------------------------------------_

_JODY: Sorry, it’s not really a “happy ending” but, I think it could be._

_ELLEN: Did you ever try to have that kind of talk with Bobby?_

_JODY: Yeah, I did. But I swear, I never saw Bobby this drunk, or got him home and stripped him down to his boxers._

_SAM: Even if you did, just don’t tell us._

_JODY: I wouldn’t! But I didn’t!_

_MARY: I have to say, I find your story upsetting_

_JODY: Oh shoot… why?_

_MARY: Sorry… I mean, it makes me sad. Even though it’s not true, it’s still about my boy and to imagine him suffering like that, it makes me sad. I know he’s had a hard life, I know this. Sam too, I know. Baby, I’m so sorry you both have to have such a hard life._

_SAM: Mom, please! Don’t worry, ok? It’s not all that bad. Ok, yeah, it’s hard, but we’re doing ok, I swear._

_CHUCK: Mary, your sons are extraordinary men. Both of them. You and John can be so proud._

_MARY: We are… Even if John is pig-headed and dense at times, he still loves his kids more than anything. You’ll tell that to Dean too, will you Sam?_

_SAM: I will, mom._

_MARY: Thank you baby… and, I think this makes me want to read you guys my_ story _now._

_\----------------------------------------_

**Author's Note:**

> There are many things in there I don't own…  
> Apart from the Supernatural stuff…  
> The movie Speed, per example.  
> Or Eggo waffles, not mine either (I'd like some though)…  
> I do own some syrup… and butter!
> 
> Great, now I'm hungry!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Sadly enough, I do own my own mind…


End file.
